hat Colonel Shepard was inclined to let his angry passions
rise, as he saw Captain Blastblow approaching him, for which I could
not very strongly blame him. I had called to him before I went on board
of the Islander, and he had come aft to meet me. I suggested that he
should put Washburn in charge of the vessel until matters had been
explained. He promptly acquiesced, and I sent the mate to the
pilot-house of the prize, with instructions to keep her as near the
right bank of the river as it was prudent to go, and to direct the
wheelman of the Sylvania at the same time.

"Do I understand you to take the command of the Islander out of my
hands, Colonel Shepard?" demanded Captain Blastblow, as he heard me
instruct Washburn what to do.

"For the present, yes," replied the colonel, decidedly and sternly, as
though he intended no more mistakes should be made.

"This is rather sudden, for I haven't the least idea that I have done
anything to displease you," replied the captain, struggling to keep his
temper.

"What have you been doing with this steamer? What induced you to run
away with her? Why have you taken so great pains to keep away from the
Sylvania?" asked Colonel Shepard, in a severe tone.

"I have tried to obey my instructions in every particular," replied
Captain Blastblow, apparently more in astonishment than in anger.

"Have you had any instruction to run away with my steam-yacht?"

"I certainly had no instructions to run away with her; and I am not
aware that I have done anything of that kind," answered the captain.

"There has been some mistake, Colonel Shepard," I interposed. "I think
we had better go into the pilot-house and talk it over."

Without making any reply, both of the belligerents followed me forward.
I was quite as anxious to ascertain what had become of Cornwood and
Nick Boomsby as I was to have Captain Blastblow explain his singular
conduct. I found Captain Cayo on the forecastle, holding his prisoner
by the collar of his coat, while Nick was in the care of Buck, on the
port side of the house on deck. The former seemed disposed to resist,
though he was not willing to risk a conflict with his swarthy captor.

"What do you mean by laying hands upon me, you rascal?" demanded
Cornwood.

"Don't use any hard words, Cornwood," added the pilot, coolly. "I obey
my orders, and don't answer any questions."

"I don't know anything about your orders; and no one had any right to
give you any orders